Last-chapter recap: Shadow Harry sent the Harrys on a mission to find and help a spirit in peril in exchange for a Moon Pearl. Following their quest guide's vague instructions, the boys flew to the Great Plateau. After slaying the monsters patrolling the forest, practicing their new spells and archery skills as they did, the Harrys came across a Great Fairy who had recently been attacked and broken into pieces.

I went a bit too long with the scenes in this chapter, so the Great Fairy stuff got pushed into next chapter for reasonable-length-keeping reasons, sorry 😅. There's art of the new Zelda NPCs/dimensional alternates introduced in this chapter, though! Check out Ao3 or my blog's "characters" tag if you want to see what Ron the milkmaid looks like!

To Thunder Dragon (and any others wondering): I apologize, but the Harrys won't be obtaining "Ancient Magic", nor will any other elements of Hogwarts Legacy be implemented into this fic. The HP elements of this story are derived solely from the books I bought 16+ years ago (with touch-ups from the wiki), as I have not paid for or engaged with any of JKR's politics or content since 2007. I understand this is hypocritical; I know what fandom I'm writing for. However, as a trans person, hijacking JKR's story-verse for my own ends while giving her no added engagement or money whatsoever is what I'm morally comfortable with. I also know nothing about "Slayers" and have no interest in writing a crossover, sorry. My future plans for HP fic are finishing this story, writing a (hopefully more concise) direct sequel for 4th year, and quietly setting down my childhood fixation on HP to do a spin-off Zelda fic based on the Hyrule this story sets up.

However, on the positive side, the Harrys' Magic Meter has been slowly increasing across the course of this fic! For Dark World mages, magic is a muscle that gets stronger every time it's used beyond a mage's comfortable limits, and the Harrys pass that limit pretty often using their Magic Rods. At this point, they can cast a flurry of spells with their Magic Rods without risking unconsciousness—only getting a bit short of breath—and cast single spells with no adverse effects at all. They're also learning a more intuitive feel for magic due to the greater flexibility that Magic Rods allow in the manifestation of a spell. That intuitive understanding is going to be useful for developing skills in wordless, then wandless casting.

There was a knock at Albus's office door. Albus rose from his seat, having expected it. "Yes, Severus?"

The Potions Master opened the door and stepped in, his lips twisted in a look of exhausted annoyance. To Albus's dismay, it had become his former student's default expression soon after their landing here. All of his staff was under great stress, but Severus had been experiencing a particular amount of difficulty acclimating to their new norm. His godson, as he'd explained to Albus, had developed a concerning illness that he was keeping an eye on, and many of his potions ingredients—some of which he'd gone to great lengths to acquire—had been irreparably ruined by the dimensional shift. He had been speaking less in meetings, and when he did, it was with the barely restrained anger of a man stretched to his limits. Albus would have reduced Severus's duties to give him time to rest if he weren't worried it might stress his young friend further with worries of having lost Albus's trust in some way.

"The foreign delegates from Hyrule Castle are here," Severus said. His inflection around the word "Hyrule" was downright spiteful. "All are armed with Muggle weapons. I doubt there's a single mage among them."

"As we've learned since landing here, the line between the magical and mundane is more blurred in Hyrule than in our world," Albus said. "Some among them may be mages or possess magical weapons. It is best, in any case, to treat them as our equals." He walked briskly out of the room, Severus following at his heels.

"These Muggles are clearly prepared for a fight," Severus warned as they made their way down the stairs. "The Zoras, at least, were desperate and unarmed when they invaded the castle. These are warriors at our door, clad in armor and with swords brazenly mounted on their backs. I question whether this is so much a company of diplomats as it is a war party."

"Are we not also armed, Severus?" Albus asked. He raised a hand and willed magical sparks to fly from his fingers. "As Prince Tiamus has explained, our magic is far beyond any that the people here are able to wield. Any one of us is as powerful as one of the great villains spoken of in their myths. It's expected for them to be cautious."

Severus's uneasy scowl deepened. "The one leading them—we'll need to watch her closely. I've spent enough time in Dark company to recognize the type. Even at a distance, I can tell that woman has blood on her hands."

Albus paused on the stairs to give him an alarmed look. "Do you believe she has come to harm the students?"

"Not with any degree of certainty," Severus admitted, his dark eyes narrowing. "Just stay on your toes, Albus. These Muggles could intend to rout us from their land, as far as we know."

"If they wanted that, we wouldn't have received reports from the Harrys and Queen Zelda that the people of Hogsmeade are peacefully integrating with the community around them," Albus pointed out. "I believe it would be wise for us to risk putting a measure of faith in these emissaries from our castle's counterpart." He was willing to entertain a healthy level of suspicion at all times toward all people; however, there was a line beyond which suspicion became self-destructive paranoia. His students and staff needed all the help they could get from the natives here as their food supply dwindled and the broken enchantments on the castle refused to accept Albus, Septima, Filius, and Minerva's constant patches.

So far, trusting the Muggles of this land had made them allies with a tribe of merpeople who were willing to protect the children from monsters, tutor them in the Hylian language and Light World culture, and bring them fish from their lake. It had also brought in a crew of amiable mountain ogres who were working to connect the castle's tiny perch to this nation's rail system so they could receive supplies. Now that the Harrys had spoken to the princess of this land, who had in turn spoken to her father, they had received a team of delegates who might very well be the final key to securing what the people depending on him needed: places in this society that would allow the adults and near-adults in the castle to earn the money and resources needed to keep Hogwarts running. Muggles or not, dangerous or not, he couldn't afford to turn away the reaching hand these people represented.

They swept quickly through the halls. When they arrived before the main entrance on the first floor, they found a cluster of young students fighting to peer through a narrow crack in the partially opened doors. The students in attendance were ones who'd likely been notified by Queen Zelda through one of her books—Ronald and Ginevra Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle. Blaise, being the second-smallest and not as vicious with his elbows as Ginevra, stood on tiptoe at the back of the cluster of children. Draco stood next to him, appearing rather miffed about the proceedings. He was the first to notice Albus and Severus approaching.

"Clear out, dunderheads! The Headmaster needs to get through," the boy called to the others. "If you're slow about it, I'll have Vincent and Gregory drag you."

"Aw, I didn't get a look at him," Ginevra complained, pulling her elbow back from her brother's ribs.

"I didn't either, thanks to you," Ronald grumbled.

"He was the little one in the back with his hair up in silly butterfly loops. Had to be—Draco wouldn't shut up about how long the guy's hair was," Blaise said with a glance back at his fellow Slytherin. "That was him, right?"

"I have half a mind to curse all your eyes out," Draco hissed. Literally, the boy hissed in reptilian fashion, the sound woven into his voice. It resembled the airy sibilance of Parseltongue, mixed with the rasp of a long-time pipe smoker.

Alarmed, Albus cast a questioning look toward Severus, who had gone tense at his side.

"It's a family matter. We're handling it," Severus muttered to him before striding forward. He waved aside any lagging students and pushed the doors open with a wordless motion of his wand, a tool he still used more often than the Magic Rod every staff member now carried. "Stay put," he said sternly to the children who went to follow them down the steps. "These Muggles are armed and dangerous. For your own safety, you will keep your noses out of this matter until the Headmaster calls for an assembly in the Great Hall. Is that understood?"

Ronald and Ginevra scrunched their noses and there was a reluctant mutter of "Yes, Professor" from Hermione and the Slytherins. Draco, interestingly enough, was one of those who didn't respond. Instead, he scowled up at the man Albus was certain he had idolized until recently. What had changed in the last few months?

"When you see him, don't make me look bad," the boy commanded Severus. "Right now, as my godfather, you're representing my family. Don't disappoint me by letting your emotions get the best of you."

Severus gave him a narrow-eyed, perplexed look. In response, the boy pursed his lips and raised his chin in silent challenge.

"To whom will Professor Snape be representing your family, Mister Malfoy?" Albus inquired. It must have been the same "him" that the others had been fighting to get a look at. Why they were so eager to spy one particular member of this team of Sheikah, Albus hadn't the foggiest. Weren't all of these delegates, members of a race of humans slightly different from their own, equally interesting in their novelty?

Draco pushed his dark sunglasses up his nose and looked away. A blush showed faintly though what Albus now realized was a considerable layer of make-up on his cheeks. "You'll understand when you see him, Professor," he said tightly.

The boy's apprehension seemed less based in fear and more in embarrassment, so it didn't appear this mystery person was a threat. Albus was curious to see what had drawn together these Gryffindors and Slytherins—children so often in harsh opposition to one another—to see the spectacle. "We shall endeavor to maintain your reputation when we see 'him', Mister Malfoy," Albus assured his student with a note of amusement.

As he and Severus left, he listened in on the commotion behind him. "I don't understand why you're being so overdramatic about this, Malfoy," Hermione said. "It's not that big a deal."

"How about you come back to me about that when you have to see some stranger with your face going around pretending they're you?" Draco shot back.

"He isn't pretending—he just is you, in this world," Hermione said exasperatedly.

Albus stiffened in surprise, then suppressed the urge to clap a hand to his face. Minerva had reported the Harrys were being taught by "this world's version of Malfoy", as the boys had put it. How could he have forgotten that?

'Too much fretting over everything going wrong and not enough Pensieve-reviewing, I expect,' he thought with a small shake of his head. He'd been so terribly disorganized lately.

This world had doubles of them. Most likely not all of them, or even most. The scouting trips that members of his staff had taken, flying across the countryside by broomstick, had brought in reports that this country was far more sparsely populated than its Dark World echo. Albus doubted there were more than a million people spread across the roughly England-sized land mass. The fact that there were alternates of at least a few of them was deeply intriguing, though. It was the kind of thing he would have devoted quite a lot of hours to studying and philosophizing over if he weren't still being pulled in ten directions. Perhaps once they had settled in a bit more comfortably…

The delegation consisted of twelve Sheikah, eleven wearing identical uniforms and one child dressed somewhat differently. Albus took in the sight of the Light World natives' scarlet eyes—proportionally larger than those of Dark World humans—silver hair, and pointed ears. They all had long-limbed, wiry builds with facial features in the range of Eurasian to East Asian. Minerva and Filius stood by, both appearing rather discomfited. The Sheikah, by contrast, posed with cool ease in parade rest, arranged in a loose formation.

That ease evaporated when Albus approached with Severus at his side. There was an incredulous shout of "Uncle Kobu?!" from the boy at the back of the group, while the older soldiers around him dropped into wary half-crouches with their hands flying to various weapons. "Kobura," a man near the front of the group hissed through the blue cowl-mask pulled over his nose. Scarlet eyes narrowed at Severus with hatred, but no one drew their blades just yet. They looked to their leader as Minerva and Filius did the same toward Albus.

A question hung in the air: what was the course of action here?

In a split-second, Albus's mind whirled through reasons for this hostility and possible ways to disarm the situation. The Sheikah had called Severus, an utter stranger, by the wrong name and seemed under the impression that he would attack first. This world had at least one doppelganger of someone he knew; it stood to reason that this might be a case of mistaken identity. He hoped these Sheikah would understand his meaning if he explained this phenomenon. Whatever "Kobu" or "Kobura" had done must have been terrible for them to react in such a way.

Severus went for his Magic Rod, a fierce snarl on his face. Albus caught his arm. "Severus," he said sharply. The tall, narrow woman in the lead of the Sheikah group reacted to the name with a slight pursing of her lips. She didn't give the call to attack just yet, though, which meant Albus still had time.

Severus halted automatically at his tone and then scowled at him with wild, burning eyes. The stress of the last several weeks was clearly showing. Albus wondered whether he should have allowed Severus to accompany him after all, despite the man's adamant insistence.

"I will not put the students at risk by lying down and allowing these Muggles free reign!" Severus snapped. "We ought to put them in Full Body-Binds and ask them their true intentions! Peaceful negotiation was clearly never the goal here."

Albus put a hand on his arm, both to ground his former student and make it harder for him to reach for his weapon. "This is a case of mistaken identity. They don't distrust you, but the version of you native to this world," he said quietly. In Hylian, for the benefit of the Sheikah listening. "Look at the back of the group, Severus. There is a child you will recognize."

Severus's brow furrowed with frustration at his request, but he obediently looked out over the Sheikah. The child standing there, shifting nervously from foot to foot while the adults around him readied themselves for a fight, was clearly Draco Malfoy. His coloring was different, of course, and his large eyes were narrower and set at a higher angle than Draco's, but that was unmistakably another version of the same boy. Severus's mouth fell open and the fight dropped out of him, as quick as that. Albus breathed out. That was one side of the conflict disarmed.

"This man is Professor Severus Snape," he informed the delegates. "He is a wizard from the Dark World, same as I, and teaches Potions at the Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry." He waved a hand toward the castle standing behind him. "Regardless of the face he may share, this is the first time you and he have made an acquaintance, I assure you."

The woman leading the group nodded and raised her fist. Her soldiers flowed back into parade rest like they'd never left it. Only the child among them still appeared unsettled, peering past the adults towering over him to get a look at Severus. He looked so wide-eyed and young—like one of Albus's students dressed in a soldier's clothes. Albus was grateful the boy hadn't wound up getting involved in a firefight here.

"Professors, if you would," Albus said, beckoning. The two teachers flanked him and Severus, Minerva standing by Albus's side. "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. To my left is Professor Minerva McGonagall, my Vice-Headmaster and Transfiguration instructor, and beside Severus is Professor Filius Flitwick, Hogwarts's Charms professor." He bowed his head. "I apologize if we have seemed untowardly wary. Since coming here, we have spent more time fighting to survive and protect our students than we have instructing them."

The Sheikah leader returned his bow, bending shallowly at the waist. "I am Commander Impa Gingetsu of the Central Kingdom Royal Guard Division. I and my agents speak for the royal family of this kingdom and defend a castle very much like your school," she said. Her voice was cold, deep, and sharp. Albus found himself standing straighter and correcting his posture at the sound of it. Impa turned to Severus and offered him a bow as well. "I apologize for my agents' hostility toward you. You bear an unfortunate resemblance toward a known Yiga agent and wanted enemy of the Crown. I will inform the Central Kingdom Division and my fellow commanders to make an extra effort to verify Kobura's identity before capture for as long as your school is stranded here."

"I do hope there won't be any future mix-ups," Filius said in a nervous attempt at levity. "I couldn't help but notice another pair of familiar faces among your group."

Albus took a closer second look at the assembled Sheikah. There was the youngest of these agents, of course, who now stood at parade rest like the others, but his eyes snagged on a woman standing at the back right corner of the rough triangle. The compact glasses secured to her face by loops over her pointed ears threw him off for a moment, but that was unmistakably Sybill Trelawney. It was surreal to see someone with almost the same face standing like a soldier, her crimson eyes clear and serious.

"I recognize another face among you as well," Impa said, looking at Minerva. "In this world, your name was Meirei Gingetsu. My aunt." Her lips quirked at one corner—a tiny twitch that might have been her version of a smile. "She trained me well. Strict, but fair."

Minerva looked a tad taken aback to be told she was both dead in this realm and the one who'd taught this towering, formidable woman, but managed to stammer, "Y-Yes, my methods have been described similarly."

Impa nodded at this and made a gesture that her soldiers snapping their feet together and watching alertly for further instruction. "Where shall this meeting be held?" she inquired. "I would understand if you'd prefer we speak outside. My agents will not harm anyone here," she paused for half a breath, letting the unspoken "unless given sufficient provocation" hang above their heads, "but as a castle defender myself, I empathize with your drive to protect your young charges."

"Your understanding is much appreciated," Albus told her. The words were spoken in honesty. With the way this meeting had begun, he'd feared his staff's clear unease might be taken as an insult. "We may speak indoors. We have a meeting room on the second floor."

"Will the boy be attending?" Severus asked. He stared at Draco's dimensional double with an intense, unreadable look on his face.

Impa's eyes flicked across Severus, head to toe. Intrigue showed in her stony expression. "Trainee Avoka accompanied us in hopes of spending some time with his dimensional alternate, if that is acceptable to you," she said, glancing at Albus. "I assume you are a guardian of some sort to a child named 'Draco Malfoy', Professor Snape?"

Severus's lips tightened. "I am his godfather."

"Interesting. I am Avoka's legal guardian until he comes of age. I suppose that makes us echoes of one another, in a way," Impa said with the barest trace of humor. The woman turned to look over her shoulder. "Trainee Avoka, come here!" she barked.

The boy dropped his stiff pose and ran up to her. His shoes—wooden platforms with two pegs sticking out along the bottom like small stilts—clacked loudly on the smattering of stone blocks that had been ripped from Hogwarts's front steps and embedded in the island's sandy soil. The four loops containing his long hair stuck out like butterfly wings and bobbed as he ran, undoubtedly supported by wire and wax. "Did you ask, Commander?" Avoka asked excitedly. "Can I go inside the castle?" His voice was raspy, strong, and confident. While that hoarseness was something that had developed in Draco's voice only recently, the two children sounded identical.

There was a scuffle behind them, up by the castle doors. Albus caught a distant, hushed exclamation of "Merlin, he does have all that hair!" and suppressed a smile.

"Yes, you may interact with my students," Albus told the young Sheikah. "You'll find Mister Malfoy at the castle doors, attempting to hold several friends of his back from seeing you. They're quite curious."

A spark of mischief lit in the boy's scarlet eyes before he bowed. "Thank you, sir." He walked around the group of professors and dashed up the stairs.

Impa watched him go with an air of exasperation. "If my ward slips and falls while running around the stone floors of your castle in those shoes, I promise not to hold any of you at fault," she said dryly. "Now, shall we discuss your predicament, professors?"

0

RED:

Red laughed as he sailed high into the air. It had only ever happened to him by accident before this, but it was really fun! There was nothing quite like flying through the sky with nothing to hold you up. The screams he'd heard behind him when Green had used a supercharged Levitation Charm to launch him had been pretty funny, too.

But back to business. Red caught himself with a Falling Spell that lowered him carefully onto the roof of the abbey. "Hora?" he called out to the fairy he'd spotted fluttering over one corner of the building.

The fairy jumped, making a noise like a ringing bell. "Ohmygoddess, you surprised me!" she exclaimed. "How did you get up here? Humans can't fly!"

"Some can, with help," Red said in his limited Hylian. He glanced over his shoulder at his brother far below, who was busy trying to calm down all the Hylians who'd watched him fling Red a couple dozen meters into the air. "The other Horas want to see you," he told the fairy. "Back at the flower."

"Oh! Shoot, I forgot about that," Hora said sheepishly. "People-watching can just be so fun, you know? I hardly ever get to do it at my full size." She sighed. "Well, I suppose I'll be getting back to my bud." The fairy flew off toward the forest.

Peering over various angles of the roof, Red found a clear area and jumped. Shrieks rang out from horrified onlookers. Red winced guiltily as he wind-milled his arms to cast a Falling Spell. He kept forgetting how sensitive Light Worlders were to seeing wizard magic. They were fine with potions and spirits and whatnot, but lacked the expectation that someone with a magic wand or staff probably knew what they were doing with it. They didn't expect to see anyone with a Magic Rod at all, in fact.

Worried nuns crowded him once he'd landed. Red wound up drowning in a sea of pastel-colored Grecian dresses and Hylian vocabulary too fancy and old-timey for him to understand more than a few words. "I'm okay, very okay!" he said, waving his Magic Rod. "Wizard, see? Now please—" He wove through the concerned women and ran down the street. "Hey, Green! Where'd you go?"

Green's head appeared floating in midair, sticking out of a gap between sales stalls. "I had to pull a disappearing act because one of the nuns got really mad at me," he said as he stowed his Invisibility Cloak. "She was yelling at me for trying to kill you."

"You'd have to try harder than that to kill me," Red said with a grin. "I would know, 'cause—"

"—you've died before," Green finished, rolling his eyes. "I never thought I'd be the joking type when it comes to dying. That's morbid even for us, isn't it?"

"Green, we were picking berries off of random vines to keep from starving when we were five," Red said. "I'm not sure how you thought growing up constantly worried about horrible stuff would make you more serious about horrible stuff. No one can keep up that level of being scared all day, every day, for eleven years. Eventually it either becomes normal and maybe kinda funny sometimes, or you get super depressed." He shrugged. "I'm looking on the bright side here! How many people have not-died twice? Red Harry Potter, that's who. Except I didn't get a scar this time, only the memories."

He was getting good at not letting those memories creep up on him, too. It helped that he'd had his head crunched against a wall under circumstances that had a low chance of ever lining up again. Green's fear of the dark and deep water were a lot easier to run into than hurricane-breathing dragons.

"Anyway, have you found your fairy yet?" Red asked. "We could split up again if you haven't."

"I haven't found her," Green admitted. "I've looked all over, too! The nuns probably think I'm a thief, the way I've been snooping around every stall and not buying anything." He stepped out from behind the street shop full of seashells that he'd been hiding behind, giving the expectant merchant a sheepish smile as he shuffled over to Red.

"Could Hora's piece be hiding somewhere away from the abbey, do you think?" Red wondered. There was another building on this plateau, after all—the church-ish one that Green had been staring at earlier. There was always a certain way that Green looked at things when the Four Sword was whispering in his ear. His eyes would sparkle with great wonder and sadness, like he was seeing something he loved for both the first time and the last.

Green chewed on his bottom lip. "I sure hope not. The Great Plateau isn't that big, but I don't want to have to search the whole thing for one little glowing ball."

"She could have gone up there." Red pointed up the hill at the Temple of Time.

Green blanched. "I'm fine searching the abbey some more!" he said hastily. He wheeled around on one heel and started walking off.

"Whoa, hold on!" Red jogged after him. "What's wrong with the Temple of Time? Earlier, you were staring at it like it was the coolest thing you'd ever seen."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Green shook his head. "The sword is just…I don't know if I want to go in there. Even looking at that place makes me feel weird." He made a face. "It's not somewhere I'm meant to be."

Red raised an eyebrow. His brother had that misty look that came over him when he was speaking for the sword. "You can be anywhere you want to be, Green. Who's going to stop you? Dumbledore? Vaati?"

"I'm not part of this world," Green said with a shake of his head. "The Temple of Time serves as a gate to the Sacred Realm, the world beyond time where the goddesses live. We don't have anything to do with the goddesses here, and our world's version of them faded a long time ago. I'd be a…a demon walking into a church!"

Red snorted. Green, a demon? His brother couldn't even stand to accept charity, let alone do anything actually mean. "I can't tell if it's you being dramatic or the Four Sword, but I'm pretty sure Hylia or Farore or whoever isn't going to kick you out of the fancy building." He put his hands on Green's shoulders and started steering him up the stone road toward the temple.

Green wrenched himself forward to escape Red's grip and spun around. "I'm not kidding! Active holy sites like that are major places of power in this world. The older Light World temples that got spliced into the Dark World weren't being worshipped at anymore, but this one is!" he insisted. "What if walking in there purifies us? Avoka says our magic feels dark to him, and Hyrule's magic likes to burn that 'darkness' out of everything from our world."

"It does?" Red asked. Why hadn't anyone told him? "Oh, so that's why everyone with Dark World creature-blood at the castle got sick!"

Green nodded. "See what I mean? We can use some Light World magic, sure, but that doesn't mean the Light World likes us being here."

"Didn't Shadow say something about all the Light World energy pouring into our world messing things up?" Red wondered, suddenly reminded. "What do you think that could mean?"

"I, er…" Green frowned in thought. "The sword has no idea what would happen. The last time someone crossed between worlds like this, Lorule and Hyrule were both pre-apocalypse. A lot of things worked differently back then." His eyes slid out of focus. "What do you mean, he turned into a rabbit? How did that hap—? Are you telling me we could have turned into rabbits?!" Green closed his eyes, scowling. "Oh, yeah, thanks! Would have been nice to know the first time!"

Red opened his mouth to ask something along the lines of "what on earth are you talking about". Green cut ahead of him by opening his eyes and explaining, "Apparently, back when Lorule had a Triforce just as strong as Hyrule's, Light World people would get turned into their true inner animal when they crossed over to our world and Dark World people would become shadows in the Light. It was either that, or people would straight-up die from magical shock." He looked just as bewildered by that trivia as Red suddenly felt. "Since the magics of our worlds are less opposite to one another now—what with our world's magic having basically become a whole different thing—we won't turn into shadows unless we get really blasted with Light World power. So I guess we can check the temple if we don't stick around for too long. Just be careful, because Hylia probably wouldn't want us in there."

"Hylia doesn't give a damn, kid," his shadow said. "Pray at her statues if you want to, even. Whether or not you can actually commune with her, she's not going to punish you for reaching out."

"Are you sure?" Green said doubtfully. "I mean, if we could insult a lake by trying to fly over it, making a goddess angry would be even easier to do by accident, right?"

"The goddesses in the world beyond time are a very different class of being than the spirits and minor gods that exist on the earthly plane. Take it from someone who abuses their great creation and its citizens every time someone wakes me up: the goddesses aren't going to smite you. They don't care whether you're a true believer or not, and they'd just send a plucky sword-kid after you if you tried to take over the world or steal the Triforce," Shadow Harry reassured him. "If you stay in that temple long enough for its power to reduce you to shadows, I can just pull you back up. I'm not called 'The Shadow of Hyrule' for nothing."

The spirit stretched out an arm. His hand slithered across the cobblestones until it seized a stray Cucco by the long silhouette it cast at that early hour. The bird squawked and looked around frantically as its wings and feathers pressed in against its sides. Then, like the stone underfoot had become water, the bird plunged into the ground. Its shadow snapped in tight, becoming perfectly Cucco-shaped despite the angle of the sun, and ran frantically down the street. Dark feathers fluttered in its wake.

"Ooh, that's cool!" Red exclaimed. "So, since you're usually on babysitting duty, you could do that to Green any time you wanted?"

Green went pale. He looked down. "Please don't."

The spirit grinned and split away from Green's shadow, resulting in it looking like Green's silhouette had two torsos and heads. A couple of children passing by saw it and ran away screaming. Shadow Harry poked Green's shadow in the side of the head, and Green flinched as his hair parted like someone had shoved a finger into it.

"Why shouldn't I? It'd keep you on your toes!" Shadow Harry laughed at the stricken expression on Green's face. "Oh, chill out, kiddo. If the whim ever struck, I wouldn't do it in the middle of a fight. I'd hardly call that fair or a show of my sword skills," he sniffed. "Dragging one of you down to my level wouldn't strain the Four Sword, either, if you're worried about that. The realm of shadows is the flipside of where you're standing—another plane, not another dimension. You wouldn't get any splitting sickness like when you accidentally portaled yourself to Outset Isle."

Green breathed out. "At least there's that," he muttered. "Alright, I'll go up and search the Temple of Time. Do you want to come along, Red, or would you rather keep looking for Hora around here?" He waved his hand at the looming shape of the abbey and the colorful little booths scooted up next to it.

"Hell yeah, I'll go check out that temple!" Red declared. "I wanna see whether it sends me to the Shadow Realm!"

They walked through the town square, past the big garlic-bulb-shaped power station keeping the nuns' lights on, and up the wide, shallow, ancient steps that scaled the slope toward the middle of the plateau. Pausing by a fountain decorated with a golden Triforce sculpture, they marveled at the Temple of time complex.

Up close, the Temple of Time was grander than Red had thought. Bigger, too. A raised stone staircase meandered up the slope below it, dotted by smaller buildings all constructed in the same spindly Gothic style with steeples sticking out the top. Red assumed they were smaller places of worship, because he saw a lot of nuns in pale clothes striding up the stairs and milling around outside the mini-temples.

As they went up the stairs, Red felt the air around him grow hot and heavy. The sun seemed to shine twice as bright. Breathing became something he had to think about and work at, and every breath scraped against his lungs. Sweat prickled on his forehead and flowed into his eyes despite the previously cool summer breeze.

Red paused to catch his breath on the last landing. Holding onto the low stone wall that lined the stairs, he turned around to look up at the grand form of the Temple of Time. "Wow, this is what Hyrule's concentrated magic is like?" he wheezed. "Even baking in the sun on Outset Isle wasn't this bad!" It had been maybe five minutes, tops, since they'd walked into the religious complex, and his tunic and trousers were already plastered to him. Breathing felt like blowing a hair dryer down his throat, and so did the gentle wind scalding his face. "Merlin, this sucks."

Green draped himself half over the wall and held on tight. He looked even worse off than Red. Through a gap in Green's sweat-clumped bangs, Red could see his brother's lightning scar practically glowing red. Green gritted his teeth in pain and ground his knuckles into his forehead. "Feels like sitting in Quirrell's classroom, but worse," he said though his teeth. His eyes were having trouble focusing and his breaths came in short pants. Sweat poured down his reddened face and the sleepless bags under his eyes looked like they'd doubled in weight.

Red reached out to support Green. "Er, should I get you out of here?" he asked. "This place might be hitting you worse 'cause you're actually real and I'm made of magic."

Green smacked him in the chest. "You're real, too," he scolded through difficult breaths.

"Yeah, I know." Red rolled his eyes. "But I'm real because of the sword, not because I was born like you. The magic might be ignoring me a little because of that. My scar might not even be cursed, if that magic didn't get multiplied with you."

"Don't have time to argue," Green panted, peeling away from him and staggering toward the tall, narrow, open entryway of the Temple of Time. "Let's look for Hora and get out before we melt."

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" Red jogged to catch up with his brother. "I could go in and you could search outside—"

"I can handle it," Green insisted. He tried to lean against the temple for support, then yelped and jumped back.

Where his skin had touched the stone, it had turned jet black and hazy. The voids in his hands looked exactly like Shadow Harry's ever-shifting robes. Green stood frozen with horror as human substance crawled back in to fill the shadows.

Red ran forward, grabbed his brother, and yanked him back from the temple. While Red was fine with seeing what would happen if they fell into the ground like that Cucco earlier, Green clearly wasn't ready to handle that. "You look outside and I'll look inside," he ordered. "No touching the temple bare-handed allowed. Use your Goron gloves instead, since they're made of Light World stuff."

Green nodded, still staring wide-eyed at his hands. "Yeah. Good plan. That's…That's good."

"Blue, please stop buying things. We still have to find one more fairy."

"I've got money and we haven't been to these shops before! What's the point of money, if not to spend it?" Blue asked indignantly. He cradled the Bluestone-powered kettle he'd just bought like it was a precious thing. It had cost a hundred Rupees, so Yellow supposed it was. "I sweated and slaved to crack open those rocks and get those Gleeok scales on Death Mountain, so I ought to be able to reap the benefits!"

Yellow crossed his arms and gave him a flat look. "You spent a fortune on a self-heating kettle when you're a wizard who could learn a spell that heats tea," he said. "And on top of that, your new kettle might wind up breaking when we cross dimensions today."

The color drained out of Blue's face. "Oh hell, I forgot."

Yellow sighed and patted him on the shoulder. Being able to spot something they wanted, pick it up without any adults stopping them, and buy it was still kind of a novelty. It didn't seem like it would ever get old for them. Blue, being one of the more impulsive sides of Harry, was extra prone to getting lost in the wonder of that kind of thing, which was why Yellow had been doing his best to rein him in without going full Mean Mode.

"There must be a way to keep its enchantment from breaking, though, right?" Blue said desperately. "I could add it to our summons list—"

"It's a kettle. We could use that slot for a new weapon and you want to put a kettle there instead."

"It was a hundred Rupees!"

Yellow tossed up his hands. "That's why I said not to buy it!"

His outburst in English drew some curious stares, which Yellow had been forced to get used to during his stay so far in Hyrule. The only languages most people ever had heard here were Hylian, Gerudo, and Sheikah; English sounded very little like any of those.

One girl who'd turned to look did a violent double-take, causing the milk jugs she was toting to wobble on the pole slung across her shoulders. "Link? Two?!" she cried out in astonishment. The pole threatened to slip and dump both big glass milk jugs on the stone underfoot.

Yellow threw his hand forward, conjuring his Magic Rod as he did. "Levio!" The jugs and the length of wood they were hooked onto floated away from the girl and, under his direction, settled gently on the ground.

With that impending disaster dealt with, he took a good look at the latest person to confuse the Harrys for Link. She was a red-haired girl around their age with freckles spattered across her nose and cheeks and a wide mouth that looked designed for happy smiles. It took a moment for the familiarity of her face to register, but when it did—

"Ginny has a double!" Blue exclaimed in English, shoving his new kettle into his bag so he could clap his hands together in delight. "That makes three we've seen so far! Do you think she's related to a version of Ron here?"

The poor girl's face pinched with confusion as she looked from the milk jugs to the staff that Yellow had used to keep them from smashing. "Battle mage Links…?"

"Just because she doesn't know English, that's no reason to talk about her like she isn't there," Yellow admonished Blue. Switching to Hylian, he told the girl, "Sorry, we're not Link. We look like him, but we're not from here."

The Hylian's utterly lost expression became one of realization. "Ah, I recognize that accent. You're some of those 'British' who came over with Hogsmeade, aren't you?" she said. It was strange to hear someone with Ginny's voice speak clearly; Yellow had hardly ever heard Ginny speak at all. "How on earth did I miss you walking around town? I was wondering why there were rumors flying about Link having little Holodan cousins!" Bounding forward, she leaned in and gave Yellow a close once-over. "It's like seeing my Link, but Maple-sized and in Maple's clothes," she marveled.

"'My Link'?" Yellow saw Blue mouth to himself.

"Oh, I'm Malon, by the way!" the girl said brightly, sticking out her hand.

Yellow shook it. "Hello, Malon! I'm Yellow," he replied. "My brothers and I go by our colors, so he's Blue. Red and Green are over at the other abbey on this plateau."

Malon hummed thoughtfully. "So there's four of you, huh? The rumors said there were five or six."

Technically, counting Link and Shadow, there were six Harrys in total. 'If I brought that up to Green, I think it'd break his brain a little,' Yellow thought. 'What a year this has turned out to be, huh?'

A sly look spread across Malon's face. "Say, do you like milk?"

Yellow was a tad hesitant to answer. The way she'd asked that made it sound like a trick question.

"It's alright, I suppose," Blue replied. He glanced at the jugs sitting behind Malon. "I'm sure there were no hidden motives whatsoever behind that question."

The girl shuffled her feet, looking a tad sheepish. "My big sister's Milk Bar is going to be back up and running next month, and all customers are appreciated. We've been trying to spread the news," she admitted. "Also, you, erm…" Her cheeks and pointed ears turned bright red. Suddenly the only visual differences between her and Ginny were the length of her hair and the Hylian style of her white dress. "Y'looklikeLink." Her eyes dropped to her boots. "I've been trying to get Link to visit for years now, but he hates milk—even just the smell of it—and I've never been able to wrestle him through the door."

Yellow's eyebrows went up. He'd been avoiding Link somewhat, since the blacksmith noticed way too much and was far too good at putting those observations together. From what he'd seen, though, Link was incredibly sweet and mellow. The most negative expression Yellow had ever seen from him was a mild, maternal frown when Yellow had turned down too many of the Hylian's frequent offers to feed him. It hadn't seemed like Link had it in him to hate anything.

Blue gave Malon a suspicious look. "Why would you want to wrestle Link through the door if he despises what you sell?"

Malon twiddled her thumbs, her cheeks flaming. "…Because," she mumbled. "Anyway, you guys seem nice enough, and I'll give you a big discount on your drinks for your first visit." She puffed out her chest. "My family's milk is a little bit magic, you know. If you're tired and hungry, it's a great pick-me-up, and it'll heal most bumps and scrapes too!" She pointed at Blue's leather breastplate. "You're adventurers, right? I bet you'd find my family's Lon Lon Milk awfully useful in the middle of a long dungeon expedition!"

"Hey, Malon!" a rough voice rang out. Another red-haired, freckled girl walked over with quick, impatient steps. "We've still got a third of the cart to offload and we're running late as it is. What are you doing, standing around to gab?"

Yellow sucked in a quiet gasp, his mouth falling open. The girl was maybe fifteen and on the starting end of gangly, with messy red hair cropped at chin-level. She wore patched denim trousers rather than a skirt or leggings, an orange tunic decorated with a red and yellow ox-head design, and a masculine waist covering of bundled cloth secured by a leather belt. The Hylian was a tomboy for sure, but she was also Ron. And a girl.

'Probably a girl,' Yellow corrected. Link was a third option called a "vei", not a boy, so this Ron could have been not-a-girl. But still.

"Ron?!" Blue yelped.

The teen gave him a funny look. "It's 'Romani' to you, stranger. You didn't get my nickname quite right, and I never said you could use it." She frowned down at Blue, her sky blue eyes narrowing as she took in his face. "Why do you look like little, Maple-flavored Links? Malon's useless enough with just the one Link around."

Malon turned red enough to nearly match her hair. "Shut up, Rom!" She tried to push her sister's face away, to which Romani responded by putting her in a headlock and giving her a noogie.

"Calm down, you silly melon. I'm not outing your crush to the real deal," Romani said with a grin as her younger sibling flailed in protest. She looked over at Yellow and Blue, who were still struggling to tie the concepts of "Ron" and "with boobs" together. "Well, whatever and whoever you are, I'm guessing she offered you an eye-candy discount for stopping by our big sister Cremia's bar in Castle Town?" she asked.

The Harrys nodded mutely. Was that what it had been?

"If you pay us a visit sometime soon to help us do final repairs with your witchy magic skills," she nodded at the Magic Rod threatening to slide out of Yellow's limp grip, "I'd be willing to do you one better and reward you with a membership card that gives you a ten-percent discount. It should be a few weeks before we're re-supplied and back up to code, so you've got some time to make yourselves useful." She went over to the milk jugs sitting behind Malon, hooked them back onto the carrying stick, and hauled the load onto her shoulders. Hip-checking Malon, she chided, "Get back to the cart and make yourself useful. Dad threw his back out, so he's not carrying much of anything for the rest of the morning."

Malon groaned as she trudged off. "Again?"

"Yes, again! He's old and too proud for a back brace!" Romani called after her. With a glance at the Harrys, she said, "It was nice meeting you, Mini Links, but I've got milk to deliver. I hope you'll think about helping Cremia out." She dipped her head in farewell, then took off walking at a smooth, swift clip.

"Ron's a girl here," Blue said with wonder.

"Or built a little different, at least," Yellow added.

"Yes, or that." Blue rubbed his chin in consideration. "Do you think our Ginny might have a crush on us, and that's why she acts so odd?"

A long pause stretched between them, punctuated by colorful gabble from the market and the loud clip-clop of a horse-drawn buggy going by.

Yellow raised an eyebrow. "Why would Ginny have a crush on us? We're just Harry." He pulled back one of his robe sleeves to bare a bony arm corded with wiry muscle. "It makes way more sense for someone to crush on Link. He's all hunky-but-pretty."

Blue snorted. Link was only twelve, but…yeah, that description was apt. "Right, good point. Now, let's go find that fairy before I get distracted in this market again."

Notes:

-There are more than just direct dimensional alternates between the Dark World and Light World; there are also indirect alternates who have different appearances, but share personality traits and have similarities in what roles they play in the world. Snape has a direct dimensional alternate in the form of Kobura, but he and Impa are also indirect matches in both their support role to the leader of their respective castle and their involvement in their teenaged charge's life.

-The name "Kobu" is part of a naming theme I'm implementing for most Sheikah NPCs, in which they're named for fruits (or veggies, if I need more options). "Kobu" comes from "corn cob". "Kobura", meanwhile, comes from a naming trend I'll be using for Yiga NPCs, in which they're named using mutations of Japanese (or sometimes English) words for creatures who would be Dark or Poison-type Pokemon. "Kobura" is the Japanese pronunciation of the English "cobra". Other examples of Yiga names in this theme, mentioned back in Chapter 76, are "Hebbi" ("hebi" = "snake") and "Koumo" ("kōmori" = "bat"). Meanwhile, Impa's family has a unique naming theme because Impa's own name comes from the English "impart", as she's traditionally a quest-imparting NPC. Her aunt's name, "meirei" (命令), means "command", while her late sister's not-yet-mentioned name was "michi" (道), for "path".

-The potentiality for the Harrys getting Light-blasted into shadows is an idea derived from Midna from Twilight Princess. Ditto for them feeling sick under the power of Hyrule's Light.

-Romani is her culture's equivalent of a butch lesbian, but the Harrys barely know what a lesbian is (and also barely know what being trans means), so they got a little confused about her gender.

Next month: it's time for an introduction to new game mechanics as the Harrys consult a Great Fairy for the first time and then find out what's happening on the other side of the dimensional Veil.